


said i loved you but i liiiiiied

by verbanski



Category: Jane the Virgin (TV)
Genre: Alternate Universe - Canon, F/F
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2016-02-14
Updated: 2016-02-14
Packaged: 2018-05-20 09:42:42
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,640
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/6001345
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/verbanski/pseuds/verbanski
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>it's named after a semi sad sounding michael botlton song about trying to tell someone how you feel but words not being accurate enough because there's too much going on and love is its own special hell already and it's 4am.</p><p>honestly, nothing good can come from any combination of these things.</p>
            </blockquote>





	said i loved you but i liiiiiied

**Author's Note:**

> for gin, the only person i would stay up until four in the morning to finish some bs thing that's probs not really good and very, very poorly titled

She passes through without notable mention the first time you meet her because your mind thinks it has more important things to focus on – being kidnapped, almost getting murdered, being let go, _Rose_.

You don’t stop to think about kind eyes or a nice smile or hair that’s too close to the color of sunshine. 

In all fairness, it’s not her fault that you barely notice her. Your mind runs away from you, allowing other priorities to fill up the empty spaces in your brain. It’s too busy trying to piece together broken parts to justify why you were kidnapped and the possibility that you could be important enough to mean something still is clouding your judgment.

(you don’t mean to pass her up all together but you’ve never been really good at making decisions anyway)

 

-

 

It’s not until weeks later that you finally realize how blind you were the last time they left you alone in an interrogation room with her because she smiles at you like you’re not crazy for asking for Rafael or for a decaf chai cinnamon, extra wet latte before you get started.

In fact, she smiles at you like there’s nothing wrong in your life for once and you never realized how everyone started looking at you differently since you royally screwed up. Absentmindedly, you think this was probably how people looked at you when you were always drunk off your ass but you were also always too gone to care.

You get lost in her when she looks up at you from whatever she’s writing down, in eyes that somehow manage to not judge you for some bad choices that have landed you back in this room, time and again.

Whatever spell she has over you breaks when Raf slams the door and Michael comes back shortly after with your drink but you feel like can’t shake her off completely.

(for the record, your track record is complete _shit_ when it comes to letting things go)

 

-

 

On the bright side, your mother might actually be alive. On the not so bright side, your mother might actually be alive and a very problematic drug lord.

There’s not really any middle ground between the two apparently and you chalk it up to being on par with how badly your life has gotten out of hand this past year and a half. You’re barely surprised when they break the news to you but the six-year-old inside of you starts to cry against your will.

She hands you a tissue that she had from the inside of her jacket, her hand lingers probably a half second longer than it should and you can’t help but feel grateful that she didn’t pull away immediately when you held on.

(you can almost _feel_ how bad this is going to be and you’re nearly at the point where you don’t care)

 

-

 

You decide to have a little fun with her, something to take your mind off all the crap that makes up your sad, sad life right now.

It starts with a little bit here, some more there, and a subtly overt come-on you decide to do just to see how she’ll react and you fully expected her to run away but you didn’t expect her to give as good as she got before she did.

(she’s barely out the door before you’ve added this idea to your long list of horrible ones)

 

-

 

A tiny wave of anger courses up and down your spine when you realize what angle she’s working, betrayal bubbling its way to the surface. Everyone’s problem is how much they underestimate you just because you’re a little messed up but you have an IQ of 152 and you’re not at all as oblivious as you make yourself out to be.

The feeling dissipates almost instantly when she actually cops up to using you. Her tiny admission shouldn’t win you over so easily but she looks genuinely guilty. It’s also highly possible that the way she’s still holding onto your hand is slightly influencing your feelings.

You hate to admit how easily you agree to help her, except it’s the first time in a long time that anyone has ever respected you enough not to lie.

(you'd be lying if you said the way she smiles didn't help sway you, too)

 

-

 

So your mother in the mental institute isn’t really your mother because she seems to have faked everything in order to get under the radar.

You’re a muddle of feelings sitting in the lobby right now, a million different ones pulling you all over the place. Unfortunately for you, absolutely none of them make any sort of sense and it hurts your head a little too much to mold them into something useful.

To be honest, you don’t think you really want to make use of any of them if you have a choice.

Adding insult to injury or the cherry on top, whichever way you decide to see it, she comes over to where you’re sitting in a poor attempt to comfort you. For a moment, you’re a little happier to see her walking your way, all the way up until you catch a glimpse of her face and it looks like something akin to eating a sour grape or five.

She still sits with you until you’re done babbling and your sniffles are mostly subsided though, and it's nice except you're suddenly more tired of running around in circles than relieved that she stayed.

(you mostly wish you knew how to finally stop)

 

-

 

You said you were done, that you were going to let this go, and you were doing such a good job.

It has to be past tense now because she finally manages to come bearing good news in the form of a confirmed dead mother that was never any type of lord, let alone a drug lord to begin with, and you fold like a house of cards all over again.

This time it’s her hand that closes the space between you two and her thumb starts to run across your fingers before you lose your resolve entirely, leaning forward before you know what you’re doing.

By the time you realize what’s happening, she’s already gone.

(you’re torn between the highest high and the lowest low)

 

-

 

She calls you five times before you pick up, she’s left five messages you haven’t listened to and you decide to take some pity on her if she’s determined to try this hard to get your attention. You don’t say anything when you do answer the phone though, you still get to be upset over someone declaring “I can’t,” after kissing you back and promptly running out the door.

The awkward silence gets to you first, makes you snap and demand she say what she needs to in less than a couple of minutes before you hang up and both of you can move on with your lives. That spurs her into action, stumbling over her words before finally settling on asking you to meet her for coffee to explain.

 _You deserve to hear it in person_ , she reasons and you hate yourself for caving so easily when you would have never given her the time of day back in med school.

When you finally arrive at the coffee shop later that afternoon, she flags you over to where she’s sitting with a cup waiting in front of your empty seat. You eye it questionably before she explains that she has a photographic memory, that she got here early and hoped you don’t mind that she ordered what you asked for last time.

It warms you up to her, ever so slightly; if anything, enough to plant your ass down for long enough to hear her out properly.

(turns out, that’s also roughly enough time for her to properly kiss you back)

 

-

 

Things seem to finally be looking up in your life.

If anything you can’t remember the last time you thought about Rose until they bring you in to tell you that Elena was her step mother and there’s a very, very high likelihood that she sent your ex to date your father to use your family’s hotel as a drug front.

All the new information sends your spinning all over again and you think you agree to help them talk to Joey to try and lure Rose out of hiding. She volunteers to take you home so you can have some time to process everything, offers to walk you to your door. It’s unnecessary but you accept anyways, okay with spending a little more time with her.

When the two of you get there, she looks like she doesn’t want to leave so you invite her in and she seems to mentally weigh her options before she kisses your forehead and follows you inside.

(you finally, _finally_ have her where you want her)

 

-

 

You’ve been debating with yourself for the past however long it’s been since Joey dropped you off, whether you wanted the donuts to come or not. Your brain and your heart fight nonstop and you’re nowhere close to an answer when there’s a knock at your door.

You steel yourself for what’s on the other end and for some reason, you never stopped to consider that _she_ could be on that side and it hits you like a Mack truck when she smiles at you with nice eyes that seem sadder tonight.

All your thoughts get turned upside down and thrown out the window because suddenly, everything is standing right in front of you and don’t need anything else –

you just want _her_.

(and then it all proceeds to go to shit)

 

-

 

You’re always so close to getting it right and you wonder when you’ll stop breaking your own heart.


End file.
